


It's like a best friend but more...

by ghettoassenglishman



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: And More Fluff, Fluff, Love, M/M, More Fluff, Soulmates, Written from the Dawson Creek quote, fic based on quote
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-24
Updated: 2015-02-24
Packaged: 2018-03-14 22:56:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3428609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghettoassenglishman/pseuds/ghettoassenglishman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>' “It doesn't matter what those fucks think.” His hazel green eyes lock with blue. “I know you can do it and that's all that matters.” '</p><p>Mickey and Ian learn the true meaning of having a soulmate through their own actions ; ( based on the Dawson Creek Quote "What's a Soulmate?")</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's like a best friend but more...

**Author's Note:**

> Italics are the quote from Dawsons Creek.
> 
> I JUST HAD TO DO THIS

_What's a soulmate?_

 

Mickey slid under the covers next to Ian, already knowing that the redhead was grinning. “Your kid brother asked me what a soulmate was today.”

 

“What did you say?”

 

Laughing to himself, feeling Ian stir so his head was on his chest, Mickey answered. “I told him they were people who ripped your heart out and ate it.”

 

Earning a smack, Ian tackled him so he was pinning the smaller boy to bed. “You asshole, he won't sleep for a fucking week now!”

 

_It's like a best friend but more..._

 

“So, what we watching tonight?” Ian asked,passing Mickey a beer he had just grabbed from the fridge, and sat himself down next to the raven-haired boy.

 

Mickey popped the cap off his bottle and hummed with pretend thought, he already knew the answer. “It's gotta be Seagal.”

 

Ian groaned into the couch, they had literally watched this film _all_ week. “Again? Jesus Christ Mickey I'm starting to think you have a fetish for the guy, fucking _Seagal.”_

 

“You can't deny that ponytail, man, fucking badass.” Mickey slapped Ian's knee, lips smug.

 

Shaking his head, Ian put down his beer next to the couch, folding his arms. “Doesn't differ my feelings towards Van Damme at _all,_ pony tail is shit anyway.”

 

“What the fuck you just say?” Mickey pushed himself up to straddling Ian's legs, his eyebrows almost in his hairline. Shit, Ian looked so fucking smug and so fucking hot. He could melt.

 

Ian trailed his hands up to Mickey's hips. “I said that fucker has shit hair, has nothin' on my carrot top, right?” He knew Mickey too well.

 

“Hm, maybe.” Mickey shifted to the side, his legs still on Ian's lap. “Go get me another beer asshole, we're going to watch Double Impact.” The moment he chose Van Damme over Seagal, just for Ian, That was when Mickey knew he was done for.

 

_It's the one person in the world who knows you better than anyone else..._

 

They were walking to the restaurant Lip had happily paid for with his rich girlfriends money. “Mick, there's nothing to be nervous about. My family hear us fucking non-stop this is nothing compared to that.”

 

Mickey bit at the corner of his nail, nearly drawing blood. “I ain't fucking nervous, who the fuck said anything about being nervous?” his words stuttered.

 

Their arms brushed as they walked closer together, their fingertips touching lightly. “How long have we been together? Fucking hell Mick, I know when you're nervous.”

 

“No you don't and I ain't fucking nervous, stop saying that!”

 

Ian stopped in the street, his sudden movement causing Mickey to jolt in his steps. He swatted the raven-haired boys hand away from his mouth. “You bite your nails and shit or you rub the back of your neck- Like your fucking doing now.”

 

“Fuck off.” Mickey muttered back with a softened tone as he began to pace towards the doors of the restaurant.

 

_It's someone who makes you a better person..._

 

“Stop. Mickey fucking stop.” Ian grabbed onto his boyfriends arm, pulling him away from killing the squirming viagroid in the dunged alley.

 

“What, and let this fuck go? You do remember he tried to feel up your ass, right?” Mickey spat, sending a swift kick to the almost-dead fuck lying against the cobbles.

 

Ian pushed Mickey back once more, his eyes locking to the blaring,blue balls of light. “I'd rather have him walking these fucking streets than you locked up.”

 

Mickey's hand's unclenched and after one toss of spit towards the guy, he let Ian lead him away from the scene, only muttering a silent. “I'm sorry.”

 

_Well actually, they don't make you a better person. You do that yourself, because they inspire you..._

 

Ian had tried to smash Frank's skull in. It didn't go quite to plan. Mickey had walked in with full view of the situation; his boyfriend pinning the drunk against the living wall, threatening him with a baseball bat. Ian wasn't thinking straight; the med's had been fucking up his paranoia.

 

 _Do what Ian would do._ Mickey stepped forward, nothing but concern filling his eyes. “Stop, Ian fucking stop.” Maybe repeating Ian's own words would get through to him.

 

“Ian.”

 

“No, Frank has fucked this whole family up and he needs to pay.” The baseball bat squished harder against Franks throat, the drunk barely noticed what was going on.

 

Mickey slowly slid his arm around Ian, one hand trailing over Ian's hand and taking over the grip around the wooden bat. “Stop. This isn't you, you ain't going to kill Frank.”

 

Ian's heart nearly fell at Mickey's delicate words. “You nearly did.” He was referring to back _then._

 

Licking his lips, Mickey steadied himself. “I'd rather have him slobbering around causing shit, than you being locked up again.”

 

Ian dropped the bat and fell into Mickey's open arms.

 

_A soulmate is someone who you can carry with you forever..._

 

Mickey ran into the redheads arms, taking in his Irish-soap and cigarette scent, its all he ever wanted after falling out with the guy for almost a week.

 

“I need you.” Ian's breathed into his neck, eyes glazing.

 

Mickey palmed the back of Ian's head, fingers playing with the nape of his neck. “I need you too- fuck, don't ever leave me again.” Because seriously, he didn't think he could cope with that again.

 

“I won't. Never.” Ian promised, arms wrapping further around his boyfriend.

 

_It's the one person who knew you and accepted you and believed in you before anyone did, or when no one else would..._

 

They were both peering over Yev's little crib. “I can't do it.” Mickey confessed, voice sounding broken.

 

“Yes you can. I know you can.” Ian pleaded his belief, if anything, Mickey would always be a good person. Nothing changed that.

 

“Ian...” Mickey tried to save the boy from a bunch of lies.

 

Ian sighed and wounded his hands around Mickey's waist, head resting into the brunettes neck. “No Mickey, let me say this. I know you think you will turn out like Terry but I know you ain't and I'm going to make sure you don't. I can see how much you love him.” He kisses the skin of Mickey's shoulder, gently.

 

“You're the only fucker who thinks so.”

 

“It doesn't matter.” Ian answered back quickly.

 

The brunette turned in his arms. “What?”

 

“It doesn't matter what those fucks think.” His hazel green eyes lock with blue. “I know you can do it and that's all that matters.” And that was all that mattered, because all Mickey wanted to do was to prove himself to Ian.

 

Mickey placed a chaste kiss against Ian's blushing lips. “I will try but I can't do it without ya.”

 

_And no matter what happens, you'll always love them..._

 

Mickey turns onto his side, watching as the boy next to him slowly breathed as his dreams took over him. He never looked so beautiful; his red hair all over the place, arms cradling Mickey as if he felt him slipping away. It was only a moment in time that Ian would wake up, and he did.

 

“Whatcha doing?” Ian's voice was hoarse with sleep, his arms pulling Mickey closer with instinct.

 

“Nothing.”

 

Ian's mouth curled up with a sleepy smile. “You were watching me sleep.”

 

Mickey flipped him the bird before dropping his hand into Ian's hair and running his fingers through it. “Nah, I just can't sleep fucking baby keeps crying.” Ian always smiled at Mickey's paternal persona.

 

“I'll wait for you to go sleep, yeh?” Ian suggested, hands forming circles in his skin.

 

The raven-haired boys heart clenched, contracted, clenched, it pounded ferociously against his chest. “Ian?”

 

“Hm?”

 

He didn't realise he had spoken out loud. “Nothing.” He couldn't yet grasp those words yet – but he was willing to try.

 

Ian kissed at the brunettes bare chest, smiling against his skin. “I love you too.”

 

_Nothing can ever change that._


End file.
